Spirit of the Bat
by Spark Vallen
Summary: Batman and Bruce face his aspects of self through the arrival of two acquaintances to Gotham City. (Completed.)
1. CHAPTER ONE And you are?

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane. I can't lay claim to him... though, would I ever like to. Hehe!   
  
Oh - author's note: I tend to mix up the Batman timeline to a point - if I like a character, I don't go exactly with the timeline flow of the comics, etc. Take Sarah Essen-Gordon in this chapter - this is going to be post No Man's Land but she is alive. I'm bad that way!)  
  
CHAPTER ONE - And you are...?  
  
"I hate these things..." Catherine Wayne growled under her breath to her husband.  
  
Bruce smiled for the glaring blaze of flashbulbs and whispered under his breath, "Have I ever heard you mention that before?"  
  
She forced a smile onto her face for the barrage of photographs being taken that would plaster her face in the next day's dailies. "You might've."  
  
"It's just for a few hours - smile," they said in unison, echoing Bruce's advice to Catherine on their first public date two years previous.  
  
While they walked up the red carpet, Bruce reflected on that date, remembering how stressed out Catherine had been. Where he'd grown up accustomed to the notoriety his status brought, Catherine had grown up in the "typical" American household, living in the suburbs where both parents worked 9-5 jobs. The world that Bruce had known his entire life was what Catherine knew from the media's reports. She'd been terrfied when he had finally asked her out, and even more flustered when their first public date had been to a charity ball. Now, two years later, though she had grown to love the work that they did for charity, Catherine still loathed the publicity to the events themselves.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Wayne, Mrs. Wayne. May I take you to your table?" the steward asked in a firm, welcoming voice.  
  
"Yes, please," Bruce replied.  
  
"Since we can't find our own way to our placecards," Catherine whipsered.  
  
Bruce shook his head, smiling. Every step of a public event had become ritualized for them, their own private joke in the midst of all the clamoring.  
  
Ordinarily, they were seated with Commissioner of Police James Gordon and his wife, Sarah. Others at their table would include Lucius Fox from Wayne Enterprises as well as Gotham City's Mayor. As Bruce and Catherine approached their table with the steward, however, they found that a new couple was seated across from them; the "regulars" had not yet arrived, or at least, had not yet been seated.  
  
Catherine glanced out the corner of her eye at her husband.   
  
He picked up her cue and led the introductions. "Good evening - I don't think we've met. I'm Bruce Wayne, and this is my wife, Catherine."  
  
The couple met the Wayne's smiles and stood. The man stood roughly Bruce's height with sandy brown hair that was rather tousled; he wore non-traditional garments for such a high-profile charity event. Instead of a tuxedo, his clothing reminded the Wayne's of a monk's attire. The woman who accompanied him was a few inches taller than Catherine with dark hair and eyes. She too was garbed in the comfortable fitting monk-like clothes.  
  
Everyone shook hands, though the newcomers to the table had not introduced themselves. Catherine noticed that they both sported simple gold wedding bands.  
  
Finally, Bruce asked, "And you are...?"  
  
"Ben and Kir Obiken," he said in a quiet, accented voice.  
  
"Nice... to... nice to meet you," Catherine said, feeling even more off-center than she normally did at the balls.   
  
"Likewise," Kir replied, smiling. "It's an honor to finally meet you both."  
  
Catherine nodded. Trying to get a sense of their tablemates, she asked, "How long've you been associated with the Mc Guiger Children's Charities?"  
  
Ben locked his gaze onto hers. "For just a short while," he said. "We're here as guests of Mr. Mc Guiger, tonight, as he had requested we attend."  
  
"He's a good man," Bruce said. His instincts were screaming that something was amiss but he couldn't put his finger on what bothered him about the conversation. "Done a lot for Gotham City with his charities."  
  
"As have you," Kir returned.   
  
Anything else she may have said was cut short by the arrival of James and Sarah Gordon.  
  
"Evenin' Bruce!" Gordon barked, clapping Wayne on the back. He turned and kissed Catherine lightly on the cheek.  
  
"Hello Jim. Sarah, you look stunning tonight," Bruce replied.  
  
"Thank you, Bruce. I always say it but Catherine was lucky to have found such a gentleman with you. The compliments never cease." She laughed and elbowed her husband.  
  
He coughed and winked at Bruce in reply. Turning his attention to the Obiken's, Gordon appraised them from head-to-toe and said, "And you are...?"  
  
The ritual of introductions was repeated with the Gordon's. As guests continued to file into the hall, conversations came in quick hello's from passersby while drink orders were filled and menus were distributed. There was enough distraction that Bruce and Catherine were able to discreetly talk amongst themselves without leaving the table.  
  
"Something's odd about those two," Catherine said.  
  
"They have a presence to them that I can't quite put my finger on. Power? Assurance?"  
  
"Cultish?"  
  
Bruce frowned and shook his head slightly. "No... it's just something being slightly 'off' from the norm. Keep your eyes open tonight."  
  
"As always, Baby," she whispered in reply.  
  
He closed his eyes and took a moment to focus his thoughts. Whenever Catherine whispered like THAT, Bruce's entire system tended to go into overdrive, with or without his consent.  
  
Catherine watched his response and smiled to herself.  
  
As the waiters darted from the kitchen in a state of ordered chaos with the guests' meals, Ben looked from Bruce to Catherine and back. "So. Tell me about the Bat-Team." 


	2. CHAPTER TWO Under the Skin

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane. I can't lay claim to him... though, would I ever like to. Hehe!)  
  
CHAPTER TWO - Under the Skin  
  
"So. Tell me about the Bat-Team."  
  
Bruce and Catherine maintained benign expressions while glancing between the Beef Wellington on their plates and Ben Obiken's piercing stare.  
  
"He's the best damned thing that ever happened to Gotham City," Gordon said without looking up. His visual attention was focused on attempting to cut the Beef Wellington.  
  
"Yes, I've heard that you have a good rapport with Batman and... what was she called? Oh yes, the Bat's Shadow?" Kir remarked.  
  
"Shadow of the Bat," Catherine responded.  
  
"Ah, yes, that's the name."  
  
"We do - they've been tremendous in lowering the city's crime rate," Sarah Gordon interjected. She served as a lieutenant on the GCPD.  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
He looked up at Ben. "Yes?"  
  
Catherine caught a glint of challenge in his eyes and prayed that he'd find the fop image soon enough before the Gordon's happened to recognize the expression.   
  
"Your opinion on the Bat-Team, as the media calls them?" he asked non-chalantly.  
  
"They are doing what needs to be done," he replied. There was no mistaking the hard edge to his voice now.  
  
Catherine began to really wonder what was going on in Bruce's head. The two of them exercised extreme caution and skill when fielding any questions that related to the vigilantes. Only a small circle of people knew that they were the faces behind the masks, so questions about Batman and the Shadow of the Bat came as standard questions to all who held "celebrity status" in Gotham. Bruce's reaction concerned her though because he responded with the same emotional intensity that he had when SHE had discovered his secret.  
  
That truth had come by accident three years previous when she had first moved to Gotham City. Catherine had moved to Gotham, taking a job with one of the TV stations as a writer. She'd only been settled into her apartment in the Old Gotham neighborhood for two nights when Batman had quite literally fallen out of the sky and landed in a heap on the roof of her building where Catherine had been star-gazing.  
  
Batman had been bleeding from beneath his cowl; Catherine made the choice she thought was best, given the stress of the circumstances. She'd removed his cowl on the spot and applied first aid to him as best as she could. Catherine had learned his true identity while he was unconscious.   
  
Their initially rocky relationship had grown from that moment of chance, when Catherine had been on the rooftop late into the evening. She remembered how furious he'd been that she'd removed the cowl, nevermind the fact that he'd needed the medical attention she had provided. Catherine recognized that same tone in his voice, responding to Ben Obiken.  
  
"--what do you mean he's disrupting the balance of things?" Bruce demanded, his voice becoming louder.  
  
"Bruce, hon... why don't we head to the... to the dance floor? Please?" Catherine interrupted before either of the Obiken's could respond.  
  
He blinked and lurched back in his seat. Bruce looked away from Ben and back to his wife. "What? Oh, sure, Angel. That's a good idea." He looked only to the Gordon's. "If you'll excuse us."  
  
They walked away, hand-in-hand. Once a safe distance from being overheard by their tablemates, Catherine hissed, "What the hell was just going on? Why were you getting into an argument about Batman?!"  
  
Bruce pulled her close and took her hand. They found a rhythm in the slow song being played and danced in silence for several minutes before he answered her question.   
  
"I don't know what came over me, Cath," he admitted. Bruce did not make eye contact with her. "They both started lecturing about the universe's flow, vengeance and interference. I -- I didn't want to hear it."  
  
Catherine raised an eyebrow, studying the hard line of his jaw. "Even though you're well-versed in all of those topics yourself."  
  
The skin around his eyes tightened. "They are areas that I'd studied in my training, yes."  
  
"Then what did it get you so riled for? If anything else, we could've played it out as the..." she chuckled, "...clueless rich folk to hear what he had to say then pretended we didn't understand a word of it. Something about them..."  
  
"You sense it too."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"We have research to do tonight on Ben and Kir Obiken," Bruce said.  
  
"Can we get through the evening and stay in control?" Catherine asked.  
  
Bruce knew he had to remain "Social Bruce" given the setting no matter how much his assertive tendencies as Batman strained for control. "We'll see," was his only reply. 


	3. CHAPTER THREE Mysterious Connections

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane. I can't lay claim to him... though, would I ever like to. Hehe!   
  
Oh! And the character Catherine is one of my own creation... er, well, she's loosely based on me, if you really wanted to know.)  
  
CHAPTER THREE - Mysterious Connections  
  
Still garbed in the evening wear, Bruce and Catherine had retired to the Batcave, the underground lair that Batman and Shadow of the Bat called "home". Both were hunched over high-powered computers, seeking information on the mysterious Obiken's.  
  
Their manservant, Alfred Pennyworth, observed the sight of them in their finest clothes and made a "tsk tsk" noise in his throat.  
  
"Yes, Alfred?" Bruce asked without looking toward him.  
  
He entered the cave and set a steaming mug of cappucino next to each of them, then said, "It seems to me that you're not properly attired for this... how shall I say? This delightful evening of spy games."  
  
Catherine did look up, winked at Alfred, then returned to her monitor's display of data.  
  
Bruce snorted but otherwise did not reply.  
  
Alfred shrugged. "And what, may I inquire, is the latest investigation?"  
  
"Two people at the event tonight," she said. "They were on the odd side. We both had--"  
  
"Bad--"  
  
"Not bad," Catherine corrected. "Just off... something didn't seem right and they asked odd questions of us."  
  
"So we're seeing what we can find out," Bruce finished.  
  
"What were their names?" Alfred asked, peering over Bruce's shoulder.  
  
"Ben and Kir Obiken."  
  
"Dressed rather monk-like? Ben having unruly brown hair, Kir having dark hair. Both with piercing eyes and a very defined posture?" Alfred asked.  
  
Catherine and Bruce stopped cold and spun in their chair to regard him. "You know them?" they asked in unison.  
  
"Of them," he corrected, smiling mischeviously. "Are you familiar with the non-denominational church... or rather, temple, that is over by the docks?"  
  
Catherine nodded after a moment's pause. "Yeah. It opened about a year ago and caused a big stir - I remember the reports on that in the office - because the fears of a cult."  
  
"Indeed," Alfred said, nodding toward her.  
  
"They're involved with that..." Bruce said thoughtfully. "Hence the remarks at the table tonight. How does that fit in with their knowing Mc Guiger?"  
  
"Master Bruce, I wonder about you sometimes. Mc Guiger was the man who'd funded the construction and land purchase for said temple. He is a highly devout follower of the belief system espoused there."  
  
Bruce's eyes widened.  
  
Catherine listened to their exchange, thinking back on the conversation at the table. "But Mc Guiger has no position on Batman that would illuminate on the questions the Obiken's asked either."  
  
"Because they didn't really degrade the Dark Knights either," Bruce pointed out. "It was just the way that they posed their questions..."  
  
She nodded.  
  
Alfred smiled quietly. "If you'll not be needing me, I will retire for the evening. Good luck with your research."  
  
As the manservant ascended the long flight of stairs leading back to Wayne Manor, Catherine looked to Bruce. "Plan?"  
  
"Observation, first."  
  
+++++  
  
Batman relished the feel of the moonlight striking upon his exposed jaw, the rush of wind as his grappling line swung him across the wharf. His keen eyes were alert to the movements of the night in Gotham City - the shiftings in the shadows, stray cats perched atop the low roofs he crossed, the spare traffic on the streets so late at night.  
  
The frustration he'd felt at the Mc Guiger Charity Benefit had not dissipated. Instead, it guided his finely honed actions and gave him focus for the diligent and patient observation and search before him.  
  
He dropped down onto the roof of a two-story tenement building on the opposite side of the street from the temple that Alfred had referred to. All was quiet, from what he could ascertain visually. There were no lights on through the windows but Batman realized that people did live within the building as there were cars outside in the lot.  
  
Batman moved closer as a cloud passed over the moon, obscuring light long enough for him to stand within a building of the temple.  
  
His scowl deepened beneath his cowl, looking at the buliding. The memory of his parents and their religion came unbidden. Latin Mass services as a child... what did it all mean? English Mass... the sermons... the unanswered questoins... their deaths, that Mass... the saying that his parents were "in a better place" than with him...   
  
Batman shook his head, willing the memories away.   
  
"And there in the night exists the solitary bat. Welcome," came a male voice behind him.  
  
The Dark Knight spun on his heel, his thigh and calf muscles primed to spring in any direction should the speaker turn out to be an attacker or a captor. It was neither; before him stood Ben Obiken.  
  
He said nothing to Obiken's greeting.  
  
Ben remained non-plussed. "What brings you into this neighborhood so late, Batman? It's been quiet around here for several months now. Surely, Old Gotham would deserve more of your attention?"  
  
Batman could hear the ting of amusement in his voice; it only fueled his agitation. "I have my reasons."  
  
"As I'm sure you do. Tell me, Batman, what memories were coursing through your heart and mind as you stood here?"  
  
Batman started. There was no way for Obiken to have known that he was lost in a reverie. He frowned. There were no words he could give voice to. Batman turned and stepped off the ledge.   
  
Ben watched as Batman's grappling line fired, zooming him off into the night. 


	4. CHAPTER FOUR Realizations

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. THANKS FOR READING!  
  
Apologies for the brevity of this chapter... I will continue next week!)  
  
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CHAPTER FOUR - Realizations  
  
Catherine lay awake, her eyes open and focused on the ceiling; she listened to Bruce so quietly open the door to the master bedroom and take careful steps toward the bed. She waited in silence, as was the ritual between them, until he had also put his head to the pillow before speaking.  
  
She could hear the slightest rustle of fabric as he dropped his robe onto the corner at the foot of the bed, then felt him slide in beside her. Bruce's hand slipped into hers that waited for him and gave it a soft squeeze.  
  
"You okay?" Catherine asked in the darkness.  
  
"No physical injuries," he replied.  
  
She caught the distance in his voice immediately. That was unlike Bruce... when he returned from a night of patrols, at least. In fact, his entire demeanor was off. Throughout their marriage, when either of them returned from patrolling the city, the rest of the night was passionate - consciously or unconsciously celebrating that they'd once again survived.  
  
"Bruce? What is it, hon?"  
  
He sighed. "Surveillance of the temple was successful. The Obiken's and others live there as well as..." he hesitated, choosing the best word, "worship... there."  
  
"Like how nuns live in the convent at a church," she suggested.  
  
Bruce started at the mention of Catholicism. He sat up and peered at Catherine in the gloom of the bedroom. They had never talked much about religion in their relationship; it had been a taboo subject between them. Catherine had quickly learned to avoid any topic that brought up religion or spirituality around Bruce or Batman for that matter.  
  
+++++  
  
They had been dating and had begun a tentative relationship as vigilante partners with Catherine -as Shadow of the Bat- providing him mainly surveillance and technical assistance. Her experience in computers and research for work had become a valuable resource and time-saver for his crusades. Initially, he'd been adamant about her staying uninvolved in the process but her independent work had earned her the role.  
  
On a particular case early on in the partnership, Batman had returned to the cave battered, bleeding and exhausted. Having maintained audio communication with him the entire night, Catherine expected the worst when he hobbled back to safety. While Alfred and she tended to his physical wounds expertly, Catherine had exclaimed, "Thank God you're alright!"  
  
Bruce's glare could have turned her to stone. He'd not said a word to Catherine again that night, neither to embrace her nor explain the furious look in his eyes.  
  
When he'd left the cave, Catherine had turned to Alfred.  
  
"It goes back to his parents, I'm afraid, Miss," he had explained. "Master Bruce handles the question of religion with difficulty, given all that has happened to him at such a tender age."  
  
"They were religious?"  
  
"Oh yes, ma'am. And Master Bruce disavowed what beliefs he had then the very night that he was inspired to take up the mask of Batman."  
  
Catherine stared. "He has a lot of wounds from that night..."  
  
"Indeed, Miss."  
  
+++++  
  
"Like nuns in a convent," Bruce muttered. "Yes."  
  
"Bruce, what about this is troubling you?" she asked. Catherine reached out and lay her hand on his chest. Her fingers began to toy with the hair she found there, almost teasingly.  
  
He rested his hand over hers to still the movement. "I had a run in with Ben Obiken out there," he said finally.  
  
"In the temple?"  
  
"No - I never went inside," Bruce explained. "I was on the building adjacent, observing. He was behind me and I never heard him!"  
  
Catherine seldom heard Bruce raise his voice; he normally maintained a steady timber, regardless of what was going on. She flinched at the inflection. "He was watching you?"  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
Bruce sighed again. "He started in on what memories I was going through while standing there, staring at his... church."  
  
Catherine remembered his discomfort with all matters religious and realized that that was a part of what had her husband so bothered by the Obiken's: their spiritual prowess.  
  
"What did you say to him? Was that what was on your mind?"  
  
"I said nothing. And yes... that was what was on my mind."  
  
She leaned closer to kiss him softly on the lips. Bruce wrapped his arms around her, drawing in her warmth, her scent.  
  
"Baby, just let it go with these Obiken's. They have their ways... we have ours. Don't let 'em get to you." 


	5. CHAPTER FIVE Chance Encounters

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. THANKS FOR READING!)  
  
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CHAPTER FIVE - Chance Encounters  
  
Catherine had alll but forgotten about the Obiken's by the next morning. Bruce had said nothing with regard to them at breakfast; she'd gone off to work and had been focused on submitting her two-week resignation to the station. She'd decided to put her energy toward independent writing projects for publication, rather than the media's torrid tales.  
  
By lunchtime, the resignation had been filed; Catherine was exhausted. She begged off any lunch dates with her soon-to-be-former co-workers in favor of relaxing in Robinson Park which was only a few blocks away from the station.   
  
Catherine had brought along her laptop. She found an empty park bench beneath an oak tree, sat down and began skimming over her latest writing endeavor. The piece was partially auto-biographical, exploring her own life through the soul of the character she'd created for the novel.   
  
Her mind was fixed on a portion of Jess's life where the character had learned first hand that friends weren't always true friends and had suffered a major loss. As a result, she didn't see Kir Obiken in her peripheral vision, standing just down the walking path from her.   
  
Kir watched and waited, seeing that Catherine Wayne was oblivious to all that was around her. She was hesitant to interrupt her work, but it was necessary that they speak. Still garbed in the loose fitting tunic and pants, Kir approached the bench.  
  
"This seat taken?"  
  
Catherine gasped and gripped the edges of her laptop. When she shifted, she'd nearly sent it on a dive toward the pavement. Clutching the computer, she squinted up at Kir Obiken.   
  
"What? Oh, no. Go ahead. Have a seat," she replied, distracted.  
  
Catherine watched Kir out the corner of her eye. With an inward grown, she shut down the laptop and replaced it into the carrying case.  
  
"So. How are you?" Kir asked.  
  
"Fine. I told my boss that I'm quitting my job in two weeks. So really, I'm great. How are you?"  
  
Kir smiled. "Wonderful! Thank you for asking."  
  
They lapsed into a minute of silence before Kir spoke again. "I'm sorry if you or your husband took offense at the soiree."  
  
Catherine raised an eyebrow. She recalled Bruce's reaction at the dinner and his later reaction as Batman... offense? That was putting it mildly, she thought.   
  
"The Batman subject is a... touchy one in Gotham," she said after a moment.   
  
"Evidently," Kir said with a touch of irony.  
  
Catherine chuckled. "What's your angle to it all, anyway?"  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
She paused. The vigilante questions were continually asked, but like Bruce at the charity event, she felt that the Obiken's were asking for a purpose rather than idle curiosity.  
  
"My position is that the Bat-Team does what needs to be done. They seem to have the okay - if not full-approval - from the Police Department, so they come across as the ultimate of public servants."  
  
"Memorized the press release, did you?" Kir asked with a bemused smile.  
  
Catherine snorted. "Please don't go there. I have enough issues with publicity, press releases and the media as it is."  
  
"So you said. You just told me you quit your job."  
  
It took everything in Catherine's power not to snap, "You're really irritating, you know that?!" Instead, she nodded quietly.  
  
"So?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What is your position on the Bat-Team?" Kir repeated.  
  
"I approve. Is that what you wanted me to say?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Is this how your religion teaches?" Catherine shook her head, frustrated that she let the sarcasm into her tone.  
  
Kir turned on the bench to face Catherine directly. "It's simple," she said. "I look at universal balance. What we do as individuals has an impact on the greater will."  
  
"Very Eastern philosophied of you," she remarked. "And so you said the other night."  
  
Kir nodded. "The Bat-Team plays that balance on a very fine wire," she continued. "We're not certain it's the wisest course of action, really."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?"  
  
She arched an eyebrow but said nothing.  
  
Catherine stood. "Look. I don't know what your angle is here, Ms. Obiken--"  
  
"Call me Kir."  
  
"--Kir. I really don't. Out of the blue you start attacking my husband and me with your religion--"  
  
"Intuition works in--"  
  
"Because we're very happy with who and where we--"  
  
"Are you?" Kir interrupted.  
  
"And who are you to start on us like this?"  
  
"I only speak. It's your choice to take things--"  
  
Catherine shot off, in a growl, "Don't tell me what I am or am not doing."  
  
"Want to go get some chocolate?" Kir asked.  
  
Her question took Catherine Wayne by surprise. She gaped blankly at Kir. What was this all about then?  
  
"How about this evening? For now, I have to get back to work."  
  
++++++++++++++  
  
Catherine was dismayed to find that Bruce had left her a voicemail on her work phone while she was on her lunch. Had she left only minutes later, she could've met him at the coney island instead of lounging on a park bench with Kir Obiken.  
  
She called him back at the office, using his private line so as to not be intercepted by his secretary.  
  
"This is Bruce."  
  
"Hey Baby... sorry I missed your call!"  
  
"Catherine. Wish we could've met for lunch. How did the two-week notice go?" he asked.  
  
"Alright, I guess," she replied. "They really didn't seem to care if I stayed or quit!"  
  
"Better that you can be independent then and do what you want."  
  
She sighed. "Which reminds me... you're going to love this. I had a run in with Kir Obiken at lunch."  
  
At his desk with the door closed to the outer office, Bruce smirked. "You ditched me for lunch for her? when we could've gone and done something other than gone to a coney island..." He let the words just hang there, knowing that Cath would pick up on what he was implying.  
  
Catherine grinned broadly and ducked down into her cubicle. "You tease," she whispered. "Save those promises for later, k?"  
  
"Guaranteed." Bruce was all business again. "What did Kir Obiken want now?"  
  
"She started on about universal balance and-- Well, no. First, she started grilling me on my position on the Bat Team again," she explained. "Then, it turned into that business about balance and disruption."  
  
"Fun."  
  
"We argued and now we have plans to go purusing for chocolate this evening."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah. I still don't know how that happened," she admitted.  
  
"I don't think it's a good idea," Bruce said flatly.  
  
"Neither do I, really. But if nothing else, maybe I can figure out what those two are up to. Why they keep demanding such questions of us."  
  
"We have other avenues for that."  
  
"I realize that, hon. But what could it hurt? And besides, I could get some chocolate then," she laughed.  
  
Bruce chuckled. "Well... if that's what you want..."  
  
"Stop it. I don't have a quiet little office to talk in while you're going on like this," she protested.  
  
"Fair enough. Wouldn't want you fired before you could quit your job," Bruce teased. "What time are you going out with Kir?"  
  
Catherine frowned. "I have no idea. I just said 'this evening'. I guess we'll find out."  
  
"Be careful." 


	6. CHAPTER SIX to die for

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. THANKS FOR READING!)  
  
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CHAPTER SIX - ...to die for  
  
"...call me down here to let me know when you leave," Bruce said into the speaker phone. "You're not doing this alone."  
  
Catherine could hear his rapid-fire typing in the background through the phone. How he could hold a conversation and hack into a database simultaneously never ceased to amaze her. "It's a chocolate spree, Bruce. I'm sure the Obiken's are not planning on kidnapping me and making me a convert or anything."  
  
"You give them far more credit than is due."  
  
She grinned and looked back over the chapter outline she'd been maintaining for the novel. There was a lot of updating to do. "Well, instead of tailing us, why don't you just come with us?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Have it your way then," she replied. He's already slipping into his Batman persona, Catherine realized. There was no point in arguing this with him, seeing that. "I'll call you when she arrives."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Bruce disconnected the call and turned back to the array of data displayed on the bank of computer monitors before him. Two of the eight were dedicated to information on the Obiken's; he was determined to know who they were, and what they were up to. The other six displayed police reports, court and psychiatric transcripts and profiles he'd compiled on a certain Matthew Hagen, also known as "Clayface."  
  
His face had deepened into the scowl that Batman sported as he memorized Hagen's information. The media had had a field day with the actor's accident a year ago when he'd used experimental make up that had been toxic to his system. Hagen had been thought dead on arrival at Gotham General. In fact, that was what all the paperwork had said. It had been an elaborate cover-up, however, for Hagen to live a life of secluded madness with his new form and identity of Clayface.  
  
Upstairs, Catherine continued to add detail to her chapter outline, fleshing it out for a potential publisher when the novel was complete. She had become so involved in her work again that when Alfred made his distinct "ahem" at the door to her office, Catherine screamed and nearly toppled out of her chair.  
  
"Yes, Alfred?" she said wild-eyed.  
  
"Miss Obiken has arrived and is waiting in the parlor," he stated.  
  
"Oh! I'd almost forgotten about that. Thanks, Alfred." Before standing up, she reached for the phone and keyed in the extension to the Batcave.  
  
"Here," came Batman's reply. Catherine knew just by the raspy tone of his voice that the transformation was complete.  
  
"Kir is here and we're going out."  
  
"Take your car," he said.  
  
She closed her eyes. "You're going to be tracking me? How 'bout I just call you wherever we stop? Or better yet, why didn't you put the bug on me?"  
  
Batman was quiet.  
  
Damnit Bruce, this is ridiculous, she thought. Catherine left the irritation unvoiced, however.  
  
"Later," she said and hung up.  
  
Catherine stalked down the hall to the parlor, willing her annoyance with Bruce to dissipate. She smiled as she entered the room, watching Kir who stared up at a portrait of Bruce's parents.  
  
"Evenin', Kir."  
  
She turned and matched the smile. "Hi, Catherine. Amazing house."  
  
"Ha - thanks. It's a pain to dust, believe me," she joked.  
  
"I want chocolate that is to die for. Where can we get some?" Kir asked.  
  
"Do you want it as a bar or in ice cream?"  
  
"Ooooh. Woman after my own heart. Know anywhere that has both?"  
  
Catherine grinned. "I think I can figure something out. Did you take a cab here?"  
  
Kir shook her head. "No, Ben dropped me off."  
  
Good, she thought. Make it easier to excuse why we'll take my car then. To Kir, she nodded. "Okay, well, we can take my car. That's no problem."  
  
Obiken followed Wayne through the black and white marble halls of Wayne Manor to the garage. She took in all the details of the quiet opulence in silence, never remarking about the priceless affects. Catherine had to appreciate her reaction; it always made her uncomfortable talking about the money she had married into.   
  
She was half-tempted to take the Navigator instead of her silver Jaguar, just to frustrate Bruce and making the tracking all the more difficult, but decided not to cause any problems in the end.   
  
"Ready for some sweets?" she asked, pulling out of the iron gates.  
  
"You bet I am."  
  
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Catherine decided on an up-scale sweet shop a in one of the few quiet neighborhoods of Gotham. It was a little brown brick building with sepia awnings that hung over the sidewalk. Beneath them were two sets of patio furniture; one was occupied by a giggly teenage couple who each had a milkshake.  
  
"They have the BEST here," she said to Kir.  
  
Walking inside, both women were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of chocolate that filled the room. A large candy display was to the right while the ice cream stand was in the back center of the room. Kir went to the right while Catherine went straight for ice cream.   
  
"Outside? Inside?" Catherine asked, referring to seating.  
  
"Outside. It's a nice evening. The universe is smiling on us."  
  
Catherine shrugged at that and followed her out to the sidewalk seating. The teenagers had left; Kir opted for the table and chairs that they'd vacated.   
  
Unconsciously, Catherine noted the rooftops of the buildings across the street, searching for any movement in the shadows.  
  
"Spot Batman or his Shadow out there?" Kir asked with a smile.  
  
"Thought I saw him once," Catherine replied, "but it turned out to be a drunk instead."  
  
Kir laughed.   
  
Catherine was immediately grateful that she didn't pounce on the opportunity to philosophize on the difference between madmen in tights and drunken madmen on rooftops. "So," Catherine said, "how did you come to have your philosophy and religion?"  
  
"I could show you all sorts of texts on the--"  
  
"We're here talking," she said between bites of hard packed ice cream, "just tell me about it."  
  
"Okay. I grew up outside of this country," Kir said after a moment, "where this belief system was already prevalent."  
  
"Far East?"  
  
"No, though their beliefs often tend to be similar." She smiled.   
  
Catherine listened closely while Kir explained her past in relation to her beliefs and wondered minutely if the bug that Bruce had planted on her was also picking up their conversation. She knew that he was nearby, at the very least, watching them and reading their lips with binoculars. Knowing he was that close was a bit unnerving.  
  
"So is this all about pacifism?" Catherine asked.  
  
"Not really. We take a stand when that is the universe's and our shared will," she explained. "Otherwise though, we are able to let events take their course without our interference."  
  
"So then why do you dog the Bat-Team?"  
  
From the third floor empty apartment across the street from Catherine and Kir, Batman crouched, indeed reading their lips to monitor the conversation.   
  
He tensed, interpreting Kir Obiken's response to be, "...because Batman and his partner disrupt universal balance by thinking they are Gods who can administer justice. Some things are supposed to happen the way they go. Why do they need to interfere in every potential learning opportunity?"  
  
In his ear, the police scanner's chatter continued to buzz as the evening grew later in Gotham City. There was far more activity on the scanner than an hour earlier; it would be a busy night for Batman. He focused on the conversation and Catherine's safety while also noting any potential disasters via GCPD.  
  
Catherine was asking Kir if it disrupted her own chi by worrying so much what the Bat-Team did. Batman allowed for a smile at that.  
  
He didn't see Kir's reply to the comment however. His attention was diverted entirely to the message across the scanner, an all points bulletin on Clayface. Still taking in the details, Batman was already on the move, retreating through the spacious apartment toward the back fire escape. He activated the radio wired through his cowl that worked dually as a phone for occassions such as this.  
  
Kir said, "You see what I mean?"  
  
Catherine shrugged. "I can respect your opinion and all, but the point of view is just not one that I am... evolved enough for."  
  
Her cell phone began to ring. Catherine made a face, pulled it from her purse and noted the number. It was Batman.  
  
"'Scuse me for just a second, Kir. I have to take this."  
  
She nodded graciously as Catherine moved down the sidewalk."  
  
"What?" Phone calls from Batman needed no salutation.  
  
"I'm on the move. Clayface. Be careful with her," came his reply.  
  
"Will do. Be safe," Catherine said. She returned to the table, taking care to keep her expression bemused and relaxed.  
  
"All ok?" Kir asked.  
  
"Yep. Just Alfred reminding me of some tasks I have to remember to take care of tonight," she said with a slight roll to her eyes. Changing the subject again, Catherine said, "You know... don't take this the wrong way, but I was nervous about meeting tonight, Kir. Given the rough start we've had. I've had a good time tonight and am glad we could talk without devolving into an argument."  
  
She smiled. "As am I, Catherine. You're not the snooty rich person the tabloids talk about at all."  
  
Catherine's eyes widened.  
  
"Joking! Joking!" 


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN Interruptions

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. Catherine Wayne, Kir and Ben Obiken are rather original creations... or something like that. THANKS FOR READING!)  
  
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CHAPTER SEVEN - Interruptions  
  
Faster.   
  
Batman vaulted off the edge of the skyscraper's roof. It looked almost reckless from a certain point of view, but the dark knight more than knew what he was doing. Seconds were being calucated in his complex mind... two, one... fire. The zip cord's line arced across the night sky, perfectly locking itself against the Wayne Foundation building. The cord pulled against Batman's right wrist and arm; it was no more of a strain than his body was well used to.  
  
Faster.  
  
He was aware of the wind that rushed by his ears, beneath the cowl, but his listening attention was focused on the police reports. That vain fool, Batman thought. Hagen had started a blaze in an abandoned warehouse, intending to not only torch himself but as much of the city as he could too. Not that that would kill him, Batman knew. Mud doesn't die by fire.  
  
Faster.  
  
He catapaulted his body up and over the elevated train that lanced toward him, releasing the zip cord wire and already firing a new cord. Batman could smell the acrid smoke before he could see the dancing, teasing orange and yellow flames that had engulfed the building.   
  
The fire department had just arrived and had hastily set up their lines and hoses. The first blasts of city water were reaching the flames but that only sought to encourage their dance.   
  
Some surprise, given that city water comes from the East River, Batman thought cynically. Wayne needs to do more to clean up the river.  
  
He paused, halting one roof over for just a moment to assess the situation. Maniac or not, insanely vain or not, Hagen... no, Clayface, needed to be rescued. The fire department would figure out how to extinguish the flames somehow, even if it meant taking water from the exclusive neighborhoods that didn't rely on city water primarily.   
  
Batman stalked around the side of the roof, noting entrances to the warehouse. It looked impenetrable given the fire. In his mind, he could hear Clayface's raucous laughter as the fire licked his mud body, gloried in the fact that he'd take the city with him if he could.  
  
He tensed, noting an office window in the furthest corner of the building from him. Through the windows, there was no discernable fire. Yet. Batman pulled his breather from the compact compartment of his belt and placed it over his face. He ran, jumped and rolled to the concrete.   
  
The door was unlocked.   
  
Batman moved stealthily through the entrance. Time was counting down now. He had to find Clayface before there was nothing left of the building. The fool wouldn't realize until the city was burning that this wouldn't allow him to die at all.   
  
Darkness.  
  
He clicked the infrared lenses over his eyes automatically, the movement so practiced that it required no thought.   
  
Darkness remained.  
  
Smoke.  
  
Batman trusted his senses, making his way through the office in a near-blind state, weaving his way toward the center of the warehouse. He knew that Clayface would be nowhere else but what he'd perceived to be "center stage." An actor 'til the end.  
  
So focused on his quest for the deranged actor was Batman, he had no chance to sense the presence of his attacker from his right. Batman was flung backward as though he'd been struck full in the chest, his legs flying out from under him.   
  
What the--?  
  
Batman searched the gloom. There. A shadow among the shadows.  
  
"Get out of here," he growled.   
  
"This isn't your fight," came the reply.  
  
He winced inwardly. How in the black blazes of hell had he gotten in here? Why?   
  
"Ben Obiken," he said through the oxygen mask.  
  
"None other."  
  
"Get out," Batman warned.   
  
"I'm a messenger, Batman. Do not interfere in this."  
  
Batman stood and had intended to charge past Obiken in the semi-darkness. He could still hear Clayface's laughter. Real? Imagined? It didn't matter. Again, he didn't see the assault, but he was thrown backward.  
  
"This is my city," he huffed, fuming. "GET OUT OF MY WAY."  
  
"Listen to me," Ben said in an even voice. "Hagen will escape regardless of your involvement. He's already escaped--"  
  
"No thanks to you."  
  
"Regardless of my involvement," he stressed. "He was gone as soon as the blaze started. Shaping shifting is his new forte. All you'll do is get yourself killed if you proceed."  
  
Frustrated, Batman snapped, "And how the hell would you--?"  
  
"I know. Now. You have precisely 45 seconds to remove yourself from this place or you'll be killed regardless of my intervention here. Heed me. This is not your fight."  
  
Go.  
  
Stay.  
  
Go.  
  
Stay.  
  
Batman's mind buzzed faster than he could nearly keep up. He felt confused. Was it smoke inhalation? Something Obiken was doing to him?   
  
He felt an arm around his waist and he was being drug across the office.  
  
"No!" Batman shouted, enraged. But somehow, he couldn't break free of Ben Obiken's lean but firm grip.  
  
Ben shoved him behind a parked car and crouched down beside him. In a casual though overly-confident voice, he said, "And three, two, one..."  
  
Batman could hear, though not see, the roof's collapse. He looked to Ben. "We need to talk." 


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT Say again?

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. Catherine Wayne, Kir and Ben Obiken are rather original creations... or something like that. THANKS FOR READING!)  
  
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CHAPTER EIGHT - Say again?  
  
Pausing just a moment to survey the GCPD and the GCFD as they managed the blaze and the collapsed building, Ben Obiken turned to Batman and said, "So. Your place or mine?"  
  
Batman stared at him incredulously. "Yours."  
  
"See you there."  
  
He waited for him to vanish into the night, then studied GCPD's line-up, searching for Commissioner Gordon. Batman needed to pass along what information he had from Obiken on Clayface. The Commissioner was not on the scene.  
  
With an inward sigh, the Dark Knight disappeared into the shadows himself and made his way toward Obiken's temple.  
  
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Catherine grinned sheepishly, after failing at hiding her expansive yawn.  
  
"I saw that," Kir said, smiling.  
  
"I'm not surprised. It could've been seen from across the bay!" She yawned again. "Kir, would it be okay if we called it a night? I'm really exhausted."  
  
"No worries, Cath. I'm sure you've had as long of a day as I've had."  
  
She nodded. "It's been a devil of one, yes."  
  
"Perhaps we can get together again some time?"  
  
"Sounds good, Kir," Catherine replied. "Like I said, this turned out to be a nice evening."  
  
"I thought so too."  
  
They crossed to the Jag. "Drop you off at the... uh, the Temple?"  
  
Kir nodded. "Thanks."  
  
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Batman waited a moment before gliding down the cable and to the ledge of the temple where the open window awaited. Ben Obiken had been none-too-subtle to match Batman's entrance style. He'd have smirked if he weren't so annoyed with the Obiken's.  
  
Realizing that Obiken would be watching for him, Batman advanced. The light in the room was gloomy which suited him fine. He could see more than well enough through the infra-red lenses that were installed into the cowl.  
  
"Obiken?"  
  
"Ah, Batman. Nice to see you again."  
  
He did not return the compliment. "How did you know what was going to happen in there?" he barked instead. "You're in league with Clayface?"  
  
"Batman, Batman," Ben said in the most compassionate of tones, "please. Use your grand intellect with me. I've saved your life. Assuming you do have family--"  
  
Batman's eyes narrowed only slightly.  
  
"--or even if you don't, you should be grateful to me." Obiken shrugged. "But then, I cannot assume your values on life are the same as mine so I retract that."  
  
"How did you know what was going to happen?" he repeated.  
  
"Under what rock have you lived your entire life?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me," he replied.  
  
Batman stared.   
  
When he failed to respond, Ben approached the question from a different angle. "Batman, from what I've come to understand, you are better versed in life energy, in understanding this energy's will, than you're willing to admit. You're an intuitive man, I know."  
  
"I use logic. Science. Deduc--"  
  
Ben waved a hand to dismiss his protests. "Which are all well and fine, and very complimentary to the intuitions I know you rely on."  
  
He felt completely off-balance. Obiken was running the conversation to his tastes.  
  
"Now, the question really becomes why, Batman, you choose to deny this side of yourself?" He gestured broadly with both arms. "There are no smoke nor mirrors to what I know, what I have access to, what I believe. I have simply chosen to consciously actualize where you've stopped short."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said through gritted teeth.  
  
"I have the nagging suspicion, Batman, that your issue with intuition and spiritually lies somewhere in your past."  
  
The window was still open, Batman knew. One backward leap and he was out of the temple and away from this assault. One leap.  
  
He waited.  
  
"Thank you for the analysis, Dr. Arkham," Batman replied sarcastically.  
  
"And thank you for the confirmation!" Ben said cheerfully. "Now, care to tell me what this issue is with you and spirituality. Or dare I use the 'R' word itself?"  
  
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"Look - an open window," Catherine remarked as she pulled up to the curb.  
  
"That's weird," Kir said, following Catherine's pointing finger. "Even weirder is the fact that you noticed it and mentioned it."  
  
"What's so weird about that? I'm observant." She shrugged.  
  
"Evidently."  
  
"What?"   
  
"Nothing," Kir said, smiling. "You just don't know your own potential. That's all."  
  
"Oh no! It's too late to get back into religion and being and all of that," Catherine protested, laughing. "Another time and you can... convert me."  
  
"No conversion necessary. You just have to actualize to who you really are."  
  
"Thanks for the fun evening out."  
  
"You too." Kir climbed out of the car, then peered in through the passenger side window. "Talk soon."  
  
They both looked up to the open but dim window.  
  
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"Say again?"   
  
"I'll be more direct then. RELIGION, Batman. What is your aversion to it?"  
  
Batman found the words coming from his mouth before he realized he was speaking. "I have my reasons. And yes, they do go into my past."  
  
Ben nodded.  
  
"I have my own reasons to doubt religion. What dogma I was taught has not held true. There is no caring God. It's only what you make of your time on Earth."  
  
"So, what you are saying to me, Batman, is that instead of accepting that there is a source higher than you, you choose to play God?"  
  
He gnashed his teeth. "I am not God. If I were God and if there were such a thing, I could make things right! I could save people."  
  
"Insightful."  
  
He frowned and looked away, angry for admitting so much.  
  
"Batman, what would happen if you did believe? What then?"  
  
His actions spoke, "I don't want to talk about it" as he flung himself through the window and into the night.  
  
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Catherine and Kir did a double-take. "That was--"   
  
Kir looked back into the car. "Batman," she finished.  
  
Catherine's mind was racing. Why was he up there? What had happened with Clayface? Was Obiken Clayface? What was going on now?  
  
"I see," she mumbled, looking from Kir to the window.  
  
"Maybe Ben had a chance to talk to the Batman himself!" Kir mused.  
  
That's exactly what I'm afraid of, Catherine thought. 


	9. CHAPTER NINE Little Epiphanies

(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. Catherine Wayne, Kir and Ben Obiken are rather original creations... or something like that. THANKS FOR READING!)  
  
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CHAPTER NINE - Little Epiphanies...  
  
Catherine had to wonder how fast he'd actually driven in order to get back to the Cave, disrobed from the suit, and be in the gym working up a healthy sweat since he'd managed to beat her back to Gotham's countryside. She stared at his tensed figure as he did the 50th pull-up since she'd been standing there.  
  
She knew Bruce well enough to know he was furious and agitated about "something." Cath had a good idea "who" that "something" was too: Ben Obiken. She crossed the gym and sat down on the weight bench and continued to watch her husband.  
  
The minutes ticked by. Bruce left the pull-up bar and moved on to push-ups without saying a word.  
  
Catherine waited. She kept a mental count of his push-ups; when Bruce had reached 89, she said, "I could sit on your back to add some resistance if you want..."  
  
He paused and craned his neck to look over his shoulder at her. A faint smile crossed Bruce's lips before he resumed his exercise.  
  
Minutes continued to tick by as Bruce went on with his routine. Catherine waited him out with endless patience. A total of 90 minutes later, Bruce performed his final stretches, loosened kinks in his neck and walked to the shower.  
  
She smiled to herself and resisted the temptation to follow him in there. If she did that, Catherine knew, Bruce would never talk about what happened in the evening. He needed to talk more than they needed anything else.  
  
Catherine turned and lay down with her back on the bench; she stared up at the dark, craggy ceiling high above them. It was only viewable in shadow where the lights could pierce the gloom. She continued to wait.  
  
"I talked to Obiken tonight."  
  
She jumped up from her supine position. Bruce stood in the corner of the room, his back up against the walls. "I figured that."  
  
"I saw you out in front of their... Temple," he said.  
  
"I saw you fly out the window of their Temple," she countered with a grin.  
  
He nodded. "He... Obiken... was in the warehouse where GCPD had found Clayface," Bruce said. "It was burning. I was making my way through into the warehouse itself to find him when Obiken... knocked me off my feet."  
  
She blinked. "Knocked YOU off your feet? He attacked you?"  
  
"Yes... and no. I don't really know what he did or how he managed." Bruce shook his head. "He warned me the building was going to collapse. When I refused to listen to him and his... intuitions... he... carted me out of the building."  
  
"And?"  
  
"It collapsed seconds later."  
  
Catherine's eyes widened. "Was he involved in it? In league with Clayface?"  
  
Bruce chuckled softly and willed himself out of the corner of the room. He sat down next to Cath on the bench. "That's what I'd accused him of too, actually. He chided me for my ignorance."  
  
"Your ignorance?" For a moment, Catherine thought of her conversation with Kir Obiken.  
  
"Yes. And my inability to rely on intuition and--"  
  
She held up a hand. "Wait. Let me guess. A higher power?"  
  
"Essentially," he said with a nod. "Kir was having the same conversation with you?"  
  
"For the most part, minus a collapsing building and Clayface." Catherine sighed. "So what did Ben mean exactly?"  
  
Bruce turned on the bench to straddle it and face her directly. "He meant that by choosing to 'play God' as I have as Batman because of my parents' murder," he said in a rush, "that I have foregone key areas of my life, my being. That I am not whole and that I... could be... if I'd learn to let things be."  
  
She nodded minutely, thinking that Ben had said the same basic message that Kir had over ice cream.   
  
When she stayed quiet, Bruce added, "When he asked why I had the issue with religion, I left. That was when you saw me."  
  
Catherine leaned over to rest her head against his bare shoulder. "Thoughts?"  
  
"We need to find Clayface."  
  
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FIN 


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